English Caricaturists and Graphic Humourists of the Nineteenth Century Part 4

[Ill.u.s.tration: GILLRAY. _"Royal Affability," Feb. 10th._

"Well, friend, where a' you going, hay? What's your name, hay? Where do you live, hay?--hay?"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: GILLRAY. _Connoisseur examining a Cooper June 18th, 1792._

A CONNOISSEUR IN ART.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: GILLRAY. _"A Lesson in Apple Dumplings."_

"Hay? hay? apple dumplings?--how get the apples in?--how? Are they made without seams?"

_Face p. 24._]

By far the most biting, the most sarcastic, the most effective, and the most popular of the anti-Bonaparte caricatures are those by James Gillray, which commence before the close of the last century, and end in 1811, the year when the lurid genius of this greatest and most original of satirists was quenched in the darkness of mental imbecility. James Gillray, however, like his able friend and contemporary, Thomas Rowlandson, does not fall within our definition of a "nineteenth century" satirist; and I am precluded from describing them. I have before me the admirable anti-Bonaparte satires of both artists; and inseparably linked as they are with the men who began work after 1800, the almost irresistible tendency is to describe some of them in elucidation of the events to which I have occasion to refer. To do so, however, although fascinating and easy, would be not only to wander from my purpose, but to invade the province of the late Thomas Wright and of Mr. Grego, which I am not called upon to do; to refer to them, however, for the purpose of this chapter, I have found not only necessary, but unavoidable.

INJUSTICE OF THE CARICATURISTS.

THEY MISTAKE THE CHARACTER OF BONAPARTE.

Caricature, like literary satire (as we all know from the days of the "Dunciad" downwards), has little concern with justice; but we who look back after the lapse of the greater part of the century, and have moreover studied the history and the surroundings of Napoleon Bonaparte, may afford at least to do him justice. Gillray is a fair exponent of the intense hatred with which Bonaparte was regarded in this country, when not only the little "Corsican," but those about him, were held up to a ridicule which, oftentimes vulgar, partook not unfrequently of absolute brutality. Who would imagine, for instance, that the fat blousy female quaffing deep draughts of Maraschino from a goblet, in his famous satire of the _Handwriting on the Wall_, was intended for the refined and delicate Josephine? Occasionally, however, James Gillray descended to a lower depth, as in his _Ci Devant Occupations_ (of 20th February, 1805), in which we see this delicate woman, with the frail but lovely Spaniard, Theresa de Cabarrus (Madame Tallien), figuring in a manner to which the most infamous women of Drury Lane would have hesitated to descend.

Josephine de la Pagerie, as we all know, was anything but blameless; which indeed of _les Deesses de la Revolution_ could pa.s.s unscathed through the fiery furnace of the Terror?[14] But this miscalled satire of James Gillray, which he dubs "a fact," is nothing less than a poisonous libel. As for _le pet.i.t Caporal_ himself, everyone now knows, that while he viewed the carnage of the battlefield with the indifference of a conqueror, he shrank in horror from the murderers of the Swiss; from Danton and his satellites, the Septembrist ma.s.sacrists; from the mock trials and cold-blooded atrocities of the Terrorists.

Standing apart from these last by right of his unexampled genius, with Danton, Marat, Robespierre, Couthon, Carrier, Napoleon Bonaparte has nothing whatever in common. Looking back upon the ruins of his empire, the mistakes he had made, the faults he had committed, Napoleon, with reference at least to his own personal elevation, might say with truth: "Nothing has been more simple than my elevation. It was not the result of intrigue or _crime_. It was owing to the peculiar circ.u.mstance of the times, and because I fought successfully against the enemies of my country. What is most extraordinary is, that I rose from being a private person to the astonis.h.i.+ng height of power I possessed, without having committed a single crime to obtain it. If I were on my death-bed I could make the same declaration."[15]

To these facts, of course, James Gillray (if indeed he knew them) closed his eyes. In his sketch of the 12th of May, 1800, he shows us the young lieutenant at the head of tattered legions directing the destruction of the royal palaces. Blinded by the prejudice of his times, he seems apparently ignorant of the fact that Napoleon although a _spectator_ of the attack on the Tuileries, had no power; that if he had, he would (as he himself expressed it at the time) have swept the sanguinary _canaille_ into the gutters with his grape shot. Again, in his satires, he connects him repeatedly with the guillotine, to all appearance unconscious of the fact that between Napoleon and the guillotine no possible sympathy existed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JAMES GILLRAY. _June 28th, 1791._

THE NATIONAL a.s.sEMBLY PETRIFIED, AND THE NATIONAL a.s.sEMBLY REVIVIFIED.

1. BARBER--"De King is escape! de King is escape!"

2. COOK.--"Aha! be gar, de King is retaken!! Aha! Monsieur Lewis is retaken, aha!!"

[_The French Revolution._]

_Face p. 26._]

ROBERT DIGHTON'S SKETCHES.

A good idea of the appearance and costume of "the general" and notables of the early part of the century, is given by the sketches of the last century artist, Robert Dighton. His etchings are not caricatures, as may be supposed, but likenesses of the _oi polloi_--the university dons--the prize-fighters--the butchers--the singers--actors--actresses--the men about town ("Corinthians," as they were termed in the slang of the Regency)--the "upper ten"; and what amazingly queer folks were these last! The Duke of Grafton, with his tremendous beak, wig, and c.o.c.ked hat, his mahogany tops and spurs, his long coat with the flapped pockets and his star; the Marquis of Buckingham, with his red fat face and double chin, which told tales of nightly good cheer, his c.o.c.ked hat, military coatee, and terrific paunch, which resisted all attempts to confine it within reasonable military compa.s.s; John Bellingham--the murderer of Spencer Perceval,--with his retreating forehead, long pointed nose, drab cloth coat and exuberant s.h.i.+rt frill; "What? What? What?"--Great George himself, as he appeared in 1810, in full military panoply--huge ill-fitting boots, huge blue military coat, collar, lappets, and star, a white-powdered bob surmounting a clean-shaved unintellectual face, the distinguis.h.i.+ng characteristics of which were a pair of protruding eyes surmounted by ponderous eyebrows.

A well-drawn caricature published by S. W. Fores on the 11th of May, 1801, gives us an admirable idea of the male and female costume of the period. It contains sixteen figures, and is ent.i.tled _Tea just Over, or the Game of Consequences begun_. "Consequences" would appear to have been a fas.h.i.+onable game at this time; but the "consequences" here alluded to are the immediate results of a pinch of snuff. The "consequences" of one gentleman sneezing are the following: he jerks the arm of the lady next him, the result being that she pours her cup of scalding hot tea over the knees of her neighbour, a testy old gentleman, who in his fright and pain raises his arms, jerking off with his cane the wig of a person standing at the back of his chair, who in the attempt to save his wig upsets his own cup and saucer upon the pate of his antagonist Another guest, with his mouth full of tea, witnessing this absurd _contretemps_ is unable to restrain his laughter, the result of which is that he blows a stream of tea into the left ear of the man who has lost his wig, at the same time setting his own pigtail alight in the adjoining candle. All these disasters, pa.s.sing in rapid succession from left to right, are the direct "consequences" of one unfortunate pinch of snuff.

MASTER BETTY.

The year 1804 witnessed the advent of a performer whose theatrical reputation, notwithstanding the wonderful sensation it created for a couple of seasons, was not destined to survive his childhood. The brief _furore_ he excited, enabled his friends to lay by for him a considerable fortune, which enabled him to regard the memory of his immature triumphs and subsequent failures with resignation. Master Betty, "the Young Roscius," was not quite thirteen years of age when he made his first appearance at Covent Garden on the 1st of December, 1804, as Achmet in _Barbarossa_. He played alternately at the two great houses; twenty-eight nights at Drury Lane brought 17,210 into the treasury, whilst the receipts at Covent Garden during the same period are supposed to have been equally large. A rough caricature of 1804, bearing the signature "I. B.," depicts the child standing with one foot on Drury Lane and the other on Covent Garden, with a toy whip in one hand and a rattle in the other, while two full-grown actors of real merit bemoan the decadence of public taste on the pavement below. Some years later on the pair might have said with Byron,--

"Though now, thank Heaven! the Rosciomania's o'er, And full-grown actors are endured once more."[16]

The leading home political incident of 1806 was the impeachment and acquittal of Lord Melville, an event which is dealt with by Gillray, and also by Rowlandson in his graphic satire of _The Acquittal, or Upsetting the Porter Pot_, both artists alluding to Whitbread, the brewer, the head of the advanced Liberals, and one of the princ.i.p.al movers of Lord Melville's impeachment.

[Ill.u.s.tration: T. ROWLANDSON. _October 25th, 1810._

"SPITFIRES."

_Back to p. 28._]

[Ill.u.s.tration:

T. ROWLANDSON. 1813.

"THE COBBLER'S CURE FOR A SCOLDING WIFE."

_Back to p. 29._]

INTRODUCTION OF GAS.

Gas, which now promises to be superseded in its turn by electricity, was introduced into Boulton & Watts' foundry, at Birmingham, as early as the year 1798, and the Lyceum Theatre was lit with gas (by way of experiment) in 1803; it met however with much opposition from persons interested in the conservation of the oil trade, and made no real progress in London until 1807, when it was introduced into Golden Lane on the 16th of August. Pall Mall, however, was not lighted with gas until 1809, and it was really not finally and generally introduced into London until the year 1820. We meet with an excellent satire published by S. W. Fores, in 1807, wherein a harlequin is depicted sitting on a rope suspended between a couple of lamp posts. The lamps and the hat of the figure are garnished with lighted burners; the neighbours in the windows of the adjoining houses, the people on the pavement below, the fowls, the dogs, the cats on the roofs, are suffocated with the noxious vapour. The figure holds in his hand a paper, whereon we read, "This is the speculation to make money, 10,000 per cent. profit all in _Air_-light air. 'Tis there, 'tis here, and 'tis gone for ever." This caricature bears the t.i.tle of _The Good Effects of Carbonic Gas_. A caricature of Woodward, engraved by Rowlandson, and published by Ackermann on the 23rd of December, 1809, gives us _A Peep at the Gas Lights in Pall Mall_, the interest of which chiefly centres in the eccentric form of the early street lamps. Among the groups looking on are a wondering "country cousin" and a "serious" companion. "Ay, friend," says the latter, anxious of course, in season and out of season, to turn the occasion to profitable account, "verily it is all vanity! What is _this_ to the _inward light_?" Some more disreputable members of the community are expressing their fears that the new light will interfere with their own peculiar modes of livelihood.

A clever and somewhat remarkable woman succeeded in achieving an unenviable notoriety in 1809. The daughter of a printer residing in Bowl and Pin Alley, near White's Alley, Chancery Lane, the remarkably intelligent girl had early attracted the notice of friends, one of whom placed her at a boarding school, where she picked up an education (such as it was) sufficient to sharpen her natural abilities. Her commencement in life was scarcely a hopeful one. Mary Anne Thompson eloped at seventeen years of age with one Joseph Clarke, the son of a builder on Snow Hill, and after living with him three years married him. The marriage was not a happy one. The pair after some years separated, and Mary Anne was thenceforth driven to trust for her support to her own resources and attractions.

MARY ANNE CLARKE.

These proved fully equal to the occasion. Somewhat small in stature, nature had nevertheless endowed her with a remarkably well turned figure, well shaped arms, comely features, a singularly clear complexion, and blue eyes full of light and vivacity. Dressing with considerable taste and elegance--utterly shameless--without principle or character, with nothing to lose--everything to gain, the woman was eminently fitted to succeed in the peculiar path in life she had elected to follow. Throwing her line with all the dexterity of an accomplished angler, she succeeded almost at her first cast in hooking a very large fish indeed--his Royal Highness Frederick Duke of York, Commander-in-chief, Prince-bishop of Osnaburgh, who had attained at this time the respectable age of forty-six years.

Mary Anne proved, as might have been expected, an expensive plaything.

In the short s.p.a.ce of two years, the duke seems to have handed his mistress upwards of 5,000, besides expending on her in payments to tradesmen for wine, furniture, and other "paraphernalia," at least 16,000 or 17,000 more. In time, as is not unusual in matters of this kind, the duke seems to have grown tired of his enslaver, and endeavoured to pension her off with an annuity of 400 a year; but with the n.i.g.g.ardliness which was so distinguis.h.i.+ng a characteristic of his family, payment was not only withheld, but when the woman applied for payment, the duke was mean and foolish enough to threaten her with prison and the pillory. Mrs. Clarke, a woman of genius and resource, instead of being frightened, straightway betook herself to Messrs.

Wilberforce and Whitbread, the supporters of the impeachment of Lord Melville, and confessed to them certain irregularities of which she had been guilty.

Into the unsavoury revelations of Mary Anne Clarke, her traffic in the sale of military commissions, and still worse, in a system of ecclesiastical patronage in which she alleged his Royal Highness connived, we need not enter. They are set out as far as is necessary in Mr. Grego's book, and also in Mr. Wright's treatise on James Gillray and his works. Suffice it to say, that all these miserable exposures would have been saved, had the duke, instead of seeking to save his pocket, paid the annuity to which the woman was ent.i.tled. If by resigning, he thought to silence his unscrupulous persecutor, he was quickly and unpleasantly undeceived. The clever, unscrupulous woman had reserved her trump-card to the last. All this time she had been engaged in preparing her "Memoirs," comprising not only the history of her transactions with his Royal Highness, but a series of his letters, containing, it is said, anecdotes of ill.u.s.trious personages of the most curious and _recherche_ description. The immediate publication of these "Memoirs" having been announced to his Royal Highness, the duke was driven in spite of himself to effect an arrangement. For a payment of 7,000 down, an annuity of 400 for her own life, and one of 200 for each of her daughters, the printed "Memoirs" (eighteen thousand copies) were destroyed, the publication suppressed, and above all the terrible private correspondence duly surrendered.

The mover of the committee of inquiry was one Wardle, colonel of a militia regiment, who for a very brief s.p.a.ce of time was permitted to figure as a patriot; that he was a mere instrument in the hands of other persons seems now abundantly clear. No sooner had Mary Anne Clarke landed his Royal Highness, than she fixed her hook in the jaws of the luckless colonel, who, tool as he was, proved to be by no means a sharp one. It is obvious a woman of Mrs. Clarke's character would be the last person to open her lips, unless it was made clear to her that it would be worth her while to do so. Her go-between in the transaction was a certain "Major" Dodd. Wardle gave Mrs. Clarke 100 for present necessities, and by way of earnest of more liberal promises which seem afterwards to have been repudiated by his employers. Through Major Dodd, the clever, unprincipled woman secured a house in Westbourne Place, which she furnished in a style of comfortable elegance, and succeeded by her blandishments in swindling Wardle into becoming security for her furniture. The inevitable result of course followed. On the 3rd July, 1809, Wright, the upholsterer, brought his action against Wardle and recovered 1,400 damages,[17] besides costs, "for furniture sold to the defendant to the use of Mary Anne Clarke." The colonel, like the commander-in-chief, thus found himself not only out-manoeuvred by his clever and unscrupulous ex-ally, but reaped the obloquy attendant on exposure and ridicule, instead of the glorification which had at first greeted his patriotic exertions.

Mary Anne Clarke and the Duke of York, afforded (as might have been expected) plenty of employment to the caricaturists. The theme, however, is treated too grossly for description, a subject to be regretted, as most of the satires, containing as they do admirable portraits of the princ.i.p.al personages, are exceedingly clever. The subject suited an artist who delighted in delineating the immodest and full-blown beauties of Drury Lane; and accordingly, more than forty caricatures on the subject of "The Delicate Investigation," as it was called, are due to the pencil of Thomas Rowlandson.

THE END OF MARY ANNE CLARKE.

In order to show the character of this infamous woman, we must follow her progress a little farther than either Mr. Grego or Mr. Wright appear to have done. In February, 1814, she once more made a public appearance: this time in the Court of Queen's Bench. She seems to have got the Right Hon. William Fitzgerald, Chancellor of the Irish Exchequer, by some means or other into her clutches, in connection with the proceedings of 1809. By this time, however, she had descended so low, that exposure was threatened unless a sum of money was deposited under a stone. In her threats, she announced her intention of "submitting to the public in a very short time _two or three volumes_, which might be followed by others as opportunity should suit or circ.u.mstances require." This threat, instead of extorting money, consigned Mary Anne to the custody of the marshal of the King's Bench Prison for the s.p.a.ce of nine calendar months, at the end of which period she was ordered to find securities to keep the peace for a s.p.a.ce of three years. It might have gone harder with the brazen woman if the proceedings had taken any other form than that of an indictment for libel, and if she had not admitted her fault, and in some measure thrown herself upon the mercy of the court. The pages of history do not appear to be sullied with the intrusion of Mary Anne Clarke's name after this period.

The year 1811 is marked by an event which claims special record in a work treating of English caricatures and caricaturists of the century.

In that year, James Gillray executed the last of his famous etchings; and although mere existence was prolonged for nearly four years afterwards, till the 1st of June, 1815, he sank in 1811 into that hopeless and dreary state of mingled imbecility and delirium from which the intellect of this truly great and original genius was destined never to recover.